CHAPTER 38
Cole
Once again, I’m the one to stop things before they go too far. I knew if I ever kissed her, my heart wouldn’t believe it was just a game. I couldn’t go back to living with her, knowing how she tasted, without wanting more, without needing to explore the rest of her.
When she rises from my lap, the heat of her lingers against my thighs before the cool air slips in. As I guide her arm through mine, the knot in my chest eases, replaced by a pull I can feel down to my bones.
Fuck, I want her.
Still, I couldn’t let it go further. If we start something in this storage room, we won’t stop. This is about making Kass see she can’t just walk back in, not about giving in to whatever’s sparking between us.
We head back outside, arm in arm just like we did the first night we met, our movements unconsciously in sync.
The press of her hip, the warmth through my sleeve, the faint brush of hair at my shoulder, all of it anchors me to her.
The crowd becomes background noise, the room shrinking to the space between our bodies.
“There she is,” Quinn mutters, nodding toward the bar.
But instead of heading over, she tugs me gently in the opposite direction, catching me off guard and making me glance over my shoulder as we weave through the crowd.
“Aren’t we supposed to go talk to her again?” I ask, confused, catching the scent of whiskey and lime as we pass a cluster of men.
“You’re such a guy.” Quinn rolls her eyes. “Leave the plot up to me. She’ll know something’s up if we’re too obvious.”
“Okay, I trust you,” I say, leaning in so she can hear me over the thudding bass.
She leads me into the newly finished section of the bar, toward the seating tucked to the side. The lighting is dim, shadows curling over the deep booths, and the dark, heavy curtains carry a faint trace of expensive perfume.
“Order me another margarita?” she asks with a smile.
I nod and head to the bar, grateful for a second to gather myself. This plan? It’s risky. Being this close to her, touching her like this, it’s borderline impossible to keep my head straight.
When I return with our drinks, she stands and gently pushes me down into the booth before swinging her leg over mine.
My body responds instantly, every curve and shift of her weight making it impossible to ignore the ache pressing against my zipper. It makes me feel both dizzy and grounded at once, like the rest of the bar has blurred away and she’s the only thing holding me here.
“Kass isn’t here,” I murmur. “How will this convince her?”
“Oh, she’ll be here soon,” Quinn replies confidently.
Right on cue, Kass enters. She heads straight to the bar but glances over her shoulder, her eyes locking on us. I watch her scan the way Quinn’s hand rests on my chest, the way we’re curled around each other. She’s watching, judging, staking her ground.
“You know her better after half an hour than I knew her in two years,” I say, laughing as I hitch Quinn’s leg up higher. She shifts with me, matching the move until she’s basically in my lap.
“It’s a useful skill,” she says, sipping her drink, the clink of ice punctuating her words.
I lean into her, fingers brushing a strand of hair off her shoulder, my voice low. “Is she still looking?”
“Yeah. She’s trying to be subtle about it, but she followed us,” she murmurs, her eyes flicking briefly toward the bar before returning to mine.
“We do look pretty convincing,” I murmur, twisting a lock of her hair between my fingers.
Her hand drifts up through my hair in a slow, deliberate motion, hazel eyes dropping to my lips before she whispers, “We do.”
A blush colours her cheeks, and when our gazes meet, it takes every ounce of restraint not to kiss her right there. My thumb brushes against the inside of her thigh, slowly, and she shifts her leg to give me better access to the soft skin.
Every subtle sway and brush of contact sends a pulse of heat low in my stomach, making it hard to think about anything but her. We stay like this for a while, the circles I’m tracing getting higher and higher.
“Okay. She’s seen enough for now. Let’s take a break before she comes over.” I’d almost forgotten why we were doing this, why we were playing pretend, until her voice jolts me out of my daze.
I clear my throat and lean back, but I don’t let her move. My hand stays on her leg, keeping her close. The more pressed against me she is, the more believable this all seems. Except… it’s already starting to feel too real.
“So,” she says softly, her stunning hazel eyes searching mine, “how are you feeling tonight?”
“Relieved.” I let the word hang for a beat, feeling the truth of it in my shoulders.
“You should be proud of yourself.”
“You know… I actually am. For once.” She smiles, a little shy. “But maybe that’s the tequila talking.”
“Well, I’m proud of you,” I say, my voice dropping into a low, steady tone that carries a quiet sincerity, meant only for her to hear.
I brush her hair behind her shoulder, my fingertips grazing the warm skin of her neck, catching the faint scent of jasmine as she tilts her head. Just as Kass appears, arm in arm with Chad, her heels clicking sharply against the polished sandstone floor.
I don’t acknowledge her at first. Instead, I hold Quinn’s gaze, relishing the quiet bubble we’ve managed to create in the noise of the bar. My thumb strokes against her thigh in a small, grounding motion, a silent reminder that she’s not alone in this.
Kass makes her entrance with a deliberate pause at the edge of the booth, eyes skating over Quinn before locking onto me. My grip on Quinn’s thigh tightens without thought. “Are these seats taken…?” Without waiting for an answer, she slides into the booth across from us.
“You didn’t need to come all this way,” I grind out.
“Relax, as if I would miss your big day, darling.”
My jaw ticks harder. “It’s Quinn’s day too. She designed half this place.”
“Oh, you never told me about her.” She tilts her head, nails tapping against her glass. “Don’t worry, he’s always been terrible at introductions.”
Quinn’s spine stiffens beside me, but she doesn’t back down. “Funny,” she says lightly, “he’s been nothing but clear with me.”
Pride swells in my chest. I squeeze her thigh under the table, my thumb stroking reassurance. Kass’s smile falters, just a flicker, before she sips her martini, eyes narrowing over the rim.
“That shirt looks familiar… oh, right. I bought it for him.” She aims her words at Quinn, sugar dripping from every syllable. “I guess you get the hand-me-downs now.”
I lean forward, my voice cutting like glass. “Careful, Kass. That’s my girl you’re talking to.”
Quinn brushes her cheek against my neck, selling the story. My arm tightens around her.
Sophie's heels cut through the music as she approaches. She slides into the booth beside Quinn. Chad doesn’t even deign to acknowledge her arrival. My teeth grind. He’s enjoying this.
Sophie crosses and uncrosses her legs, the picture of nonchalance. “Yeah,” she says coolly, eyes on Kass. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”
Kass’s smile cracks, then hardens. “Anyway, enjoy it while it lasts. Some things”—her gaze cuts to Quinn— “aren’t built to hold up long term.”
I lace my fingers through Quinn’s and set our hands on the table where Kass can’t miss it. “Some things aren’t meant to last, Kass. That’s why they’re in the past.”
Quinn looks at me. A softness flickers in her eyes, but I can’t decipher whether it’s part of the act or something real. “And some things,” she says, “are just getting started.”
The words stick in my chest. I want to believe they’re more than just part of the game but wanting her has already blurred too many lines. If this is pretend, I don’t know how much longer I can keep it up.
Sophie tilts her head, her smile lethal. “Looks like you’ve lost your seat, Kass.”
Chad shifts restlessly, his smirk faltering when no one looks his way. Not content to be relegated to the background, he makes himself the centre by yanking Kass against him. She aims for his cheek, but he turns, and their mouths crash together instead.
Sophie flicks a glance their way, unimpressed, and leans toward Quinn instead. “I actually came to show my best friend something. You too, Cole.”
I send her a silent thank-you and trail Quinn out of the booth. Her face lights up when she spots her friends gathered nearby, laughter spilling into the air. She squeals, spinning into their embrace, arms wrapping tight as joy radiates from her.
Watching her like this does something to me. For a heartbeat I almost let myself believe the show back there was real, the ease between us, the way she fits so naturally at my side. But even as the warmth lingers, guilt coils in my gut.
Believing it’s real means I’m already in too deep.